


Champagne & Firewhiskey

by MissTaken4Mad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackcest (Onesided), F/F, Femslash, Mentions of underage alcohol consumption/sex, Other, canon-compliant character death, repost from ffn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTaken4Mad/pseuds/MissTaken4Mad
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy attends a party and remembers something she'd really wanted to forget.





	Champagne & Firewhiskey

Narcissa (Malfoy, now, and it still sounds wrong on her tongue so she's just Narcissa) sits primly on the elegant white sofa of the Malfoy Manor, silently watching the so-called party go on without her as she absently runs a finger over the rim of her champagne flute. These men, they act stupidly, without thinking, just for the sake of pretending they know what it's like to be so wasted everything that's wrong is the only thing that's _right_ anymore.

That's always been the thing about purebloods, she decides. Can't throw a bloody party to save their miserable lives, always with the forced smiles and fake laughter. But then, it must be hard to appear happy with a wand lodged so far up your arse you can taste wood.

And damn her if she isn't exactly the same.

She didn't used to be, though.

She glances up for a moment and sees Bella staring from across the room. It's _that_ stare, the one that Narcissa knows so well (too well). In a minute Bella will come steal her away from Lucius under some false pretense and Narcissa will have to oblige for the sake of propriety. But by then the champagne will have gone to her head and she won't know right from wrong anyway, so maybe it'll be okay.

But even as Bella's fingers burn molten trails of desire down her bare, porcelain skin, Narcissa can't help but remember.

She remembers that one night, many years ago, the one in the Gryffindor common room because no one would give a damn in the morning. She doesn't remember the day or the month, but she's fairly certain it was her fifth years. There was no champagne, because they were only _Gryffindors_ after all, and could not therefore be reasonably expected to have any inkling of proper class whatsoever.

But there had been _firewhiskey_. She remembers the taste of it- bitter, and burning at her throat like a corrosive acid (of course she drank it- she was already _there_ , after all, and Merlin help her if she was going to let all the effort spent sneaking into _Gryffindor Tower_ of all places at one in the bloody morning go to waste). Bella had laughed at the sensation, she remembers, her eyes glittering with that frightening emotion that Narcissa never could name. Not until much later.

And Bella, at least, seemed to be having fun- she and Regulus were long gone doing Merlin knew what, and Narcissa couldn't bring herself to _want_ to know. They'd made themselves quite a reputation, Narcissa and Bella and Regulus (but not Andromeda because she really was _frightfully_ dull and didn't believe in fucking for fucking's sake).

Narcissa blamed it on Bella for walking away, leaving her stranded in the midst of these tasteless barbarians- she blamed Andromeda, for not coming along to be a stick in the mud. She blamed the mutt and his pet for sending her those incredulous stares- she blamed the circumstances if nothing else.

And _Merlin_ , she blamed the _firewhiskey_. It was stronger than anything she'd had before and she was incredibly disappointed that she could hardly hold her liquor at all. And somehow, whatever the reason, Narcissa Black found herself conversing with Lily _Evans_ , of all bloody people.

Lily _Evans_ , with her stupid red hair and stupid green eyes and _stupid_ smile that even Narcissa Black hadn't been able to overlook when she'd first spotted her off the Hogwarts Express.

And before she quite knew what was happening, words became looks and looks became _touches_ and Narcissa _Black_ became somebody else entirely.

* * *

Why, she wonders as Bella slithers around, snakelike on top of her, why was it that the most dangerous events in her life reeked of alcohol and sweat and other equally unpleasant things? Like the way she made Lily Evans, the queen of all that was logical and good, yes, _that_ Lily _Evans_ scream her name...

Suddenly she feels dirty as her body shakes of her own accord beneath her blood sister. She hates that she has no control of her own physical reactions. It's the only thing she can't control now.

Bella's sweaty body weighs heavily on hers, and Narcissa can't look anymore and she closes her eyes, and suddenly it isn't Bella on top of her at all. It's Lily- _lovely_ Lily, with her stupid red hair and stupid green eyes (her _stupid_ green eyes that gazed down on Narcissa like they had forever, like time had stopped and she and Narcissa were the only two in the world).

But then Bella barked out a laugh, her dark eyes burning with arousal (and that vile, loathsome, damnable pride that came with being a Black) at Narcissa's reaction to her touches, and the spell was broken. Narcissa took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. Maybe, just for tonight, maybe she could pretend.

Like the barren, forgotten guest room was the Gryffindor common room- like the silence was loud, raucous laughter.

Like Bella's blood wasn't so pure, and like champagne was firewhiskey.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another repost from FFn. I guess I'm just in the mood to do all this cross-posting tonight. A sidenote: I don't support Blackcest, but I do support Bellatrix being a crazy, sadistic witch (see what I did there?). I wouldn't put a bit of incest (strictly for pleasure) past her.
> 
> Please take a moment to comment/review if you liked it :)


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